Six Months Later
by Silverlane
Summary: Six months after leaving for military school, Tristan contacts Rory. Everything in the first and second seasons has happened. COMPLETED.
1. Default Chapter

Blah blah blah, the technical stuff.  These characters aren't mine, etc.  No infringement intended, etc.  If you're looking for an "I hate Dean" piece you'll be disappointed because I think Dean is great, I think Tristan is great, and I think Jess is great.  Mainly this is about Rory- the guys just happen to be a big part of Rory's life.  

Six Months Later 

            Rory had been careful to not think about him.  Careful to avoid where his locker had been, careful to stay away from Madelyn's house.  Careful to duck out of conversations involving the words "Tristan" or "DuGrey."  But when she picks up the mail on Friday, she is unable to be careful anymore.

            Among the mess of catalogues and credit card applications is a standard business envelope with her name printed in clear, boyish handwriting: Rory Leigh Gilmore.  Rory blinks at the return address.  North Carolina.  Tristan.

            She stands in the yard for a minute or two, staring at the letter as if she expects it to vanish at any second like Tristan did.  Finally she walks into the empty house and dumps her heavy backpack in the entryway.

            "Mom?" she calls, even though the jeep was not in the driveway, even though she knows there is an event tonight at the Inn and Lorelai won't be home until 7:00 when they have to leave for Hartford.  But Rory wants to be certain of her privacy before ripping into Tristan's letter.  She starts coffee.  With Lane still grounded from the Henry incident and the recent split up of she and Dean over kissing Jess at the wedding, Rory never questions that her only Friday activity will be dinner with the grandparents.

            Coffee brewing, Rory carries the letter into her bedroom and flops on the bed she's had since she was eight.  The letter is a single page and it is obvious to Rory that it has been edited and revised many times- it is carefully worded and written with meticulous handwriting.

Dear Rory,

I have thought of writing you several times since I came to North Carolina, but I could never think of what to say.  It's not as if my days are full of exciting events I'm desperate to share with anyone- I go to class, I train, I sleep.  One thing is for sure, I'm not pulling the pranks I was back in Hartford.  

            There's a lot of time to think here.  Initially I thought a lot about myself- poor Tristan shipped off to military school, poor Tristan living with no family, no friends.  That went on for a good month or so.  Then my father started talking to me again.  Nothing earth shattering, nothing like what you and your mother have, but it is something.  My father sends me the Chilton newspapers.  I see you are to be the student body vice president and I think that's really great.  I loved reading all your articles- you definitely have a way with words.

            Anyway, there's not much else to say.  Just hello and that I'm thinking about you.  Give me a call sometime.  

Take care,

Tristan

            Rory reads the letter twice more before pouring herself a cup of coffee.  She is eager to hold the mug in her hands, to feel something familiar as she processes the letter.  Rory reads the letter again and stares at the phone number written beneath his signature.  What would she say to him?  She wasn't the same girl he'd left in Connecticut six months ago.  Six months ago she was too afraid to get involved with someone like Tristan- someone with a reputation, someone experienced, someone who made her heart roll around her chest.  Six months ago, something like kissing Jess never would have happened, she never would have let herself be attracted to him, the way she never allowed herself to be attracted to Tristan.

            Rory picks up the phone and dials.  She imagines him miles away in North Carolina lying on a twin bed, listening to music.  Or reading.  Or writing letters.  An unfamiliar voice answers the phone.

            "Is Tristan there?" she asks, her voice embarrassingly grainy.

            "Yeah, hang on," the guy says.  She hears muffling, then the familiar sound of Tristan's voice.

            "Hello?" he sounds more gruff than usual, as if she'd woken him up.

            "Hi, it's Rory," she says. "I got your letter."

            "Rory, hey," he sounds surprised.  Like he never thought she would actually call. "Wow that got there faster than I expected it to.  I just sent it on Wednesday."

            "Wow," she answers.  She doesn't know what to say.  So much time has passed, so much has changed in her life and she assumes in his as well.  He clears his throat. 

            "Sorry, it always takes my vocal cords a bit to warm up after I've been sleeping."

            "Oh did I wake you up?"

            "Yeah, but it's fine."

            "Sorry."

            "It really is fine," Tristan insists. 

"So is that your room mate?" Rory asks after a brief silence.

            "Yeah it sure is."

            "What's his name?"

            "Hang on let me step out in the hallway."

"Okay." 

He whistles as he exits, she hears the creaking of the door and then the quiet click of the doorknob.

"Okay," Tristan says.

"Okay," Rory repeats.

"His name is Christian."

"You like him okay?"

"Yeah, he's all right."

"That's good.  At least he's not real annoying or anything."

"Yeah not real annoying.  So…when do you head for Washington?"

            "How do you know about that?"

            "I read it in the article that you and Paris will be down there for some leadership conference."

            "We leave in a week."

            "How long will you be there?"

            "Six weeks."

            "Long time."

            "Yeah I know."

            "I bet Dean's just thrilled by that," Tristan says.  It's a leading statement and Rory knows it.  She clears her throat.

            "I don't think he really cares.  We broke up."

            "Oh wow…when?"

            "Last week.  Tomorrow would have been our one year anniversary."

            "That sucks."

            "Yeah it does suck," Rory thinks about the day her and Dean got back together- Tristan holding her books and watching as she tried to tell Dean she loved him.  

            "Who broke up with who?"

            "It was mutual…I kissed someone else."

            "Oh my gosh," Tristan says.  He is surprised and why shouldn't he be?  It surprised _her_ when she did it.  

            "Yeah…" Rory says, desperate to fill the silence.

            "Who did you kiss?"

            "Just some guy, you don't know him.  He lives in Stars Hollow."

            "That just seems so unlike you."

            "Yeah I know.  It just _happened_ I just…I don't know."

            "Wow," Tristan says. "So are you dating this other guy or anything?"

            "Jess?  No.  I can't even stand to be around him right now.  All it does is remind me of this awful thing I did to Dean."

            "We're all human, Rory, it happens."

            "I know.  Just never to me."

            "You kissed me at Madelyn's party."

            "You said you didn't remember that," Rory says.

            "I did?"

            "Yes."

            "When?"

            "Right before you left!"

            "I did not."

            "Yes you did.  It was when we were doing Romeo and Juliet and Dean was going to be coming to rehearsal and I asked you not to tell him that we kissed and you said you didn't remember."

            "Maybe I was lying," Tristan says.

            "Maybe."

            "No I'm sure I was lying.  That was such a freakin' weird night I will never be able to forget that."

            "Why did you lie to me and say you didn't remember?" Rory asks.

            "I don't know," Tristan says.  She knows he is lying once again and she knows him well enough and yet not enough to be brave enough to push the issue.

            "You do to," she insists.  Tristan laughs.

            "It's really stupid," he says.

            "I don't care."

            "It makes me sound like I was 5 years old."

            "Tristan, it's fine.  You can tell me."

            "I guess I didn't want you to know that it meant something to me."

            "The kiss?"

            "Yeah," Tristan says.  

            "Why wouldn't you want me to know that?" Rory asks.

            "Because you humiliated me."

            Rory doesn't need to ask how, she knows how.  

            "I didn't mean that I _hated_ you.  I was just frustrated, that's all."

            "And you were in love with Dean."

            "Yeah, that too."

            "And that's what humiliated me," Tristan confesses. "I knew you didn't hate me, I knew you were just trying to keep Dean there.  And I was embarrassed that you chose him over me.  Not that you should have done things any differently, I was just hurt, that's all."

            "I'm sorry."

            "Don't be, it was my fault."

            "How was it your fault?"

            "Because it was."

            "And I was afraid you were going to be vague about this," Rory says and Tristan laughs.  

            "Okay, I'm going to try to be more specific but under no circumstances can you laugh at me or hold this over my head."

            "Deal," Rory says, propping her feet up on the coffee table and allowing her body to relax into the couch.  Tristan sighs and clears his throat.

            "If I were you, I wouldn't have chosen me either," he begins. "I mean Dean respected you and told you he loved you and made you feel special and I…well, I didn't.  I mean I gave you such a hard time at first and then even after I started liking you I acted like a five year old."

            "You liked me?" Even though she already knew.  She had known ever since she tried to set him up with Paris when he said to her "Is it better that I keep dating her even though I like somebody else?" "Oh," she said. "I didn't realize.  So you're still not over Summer yet?" And then Tristan said "Yeah I'm not over Summer yet," and rolled his eyes.  And somehow that was when she became afraid of him.  The moment she realized that Tristan wanted more than a one night stand with her.  

            "You know I liked you," Tristan says. "You're smart enough to know."

            "I guess I did," Rory says.  She thinks about Tristan leaving for military school- the tightness in his voice when he said "Well, I imagine you're overwhelmed with the relief that soon I will be gone."  She remembers the frustration that had risen inside her, that he thought she would be happy that he was leaving.

            "I, uh…I gotta go to dinner," Tristan says.

            "Oh."

            "Yeah."

            "Well I'll call you later," Rory volunteers.

            "Good," Tristan says. "I'll talk to you later."

            "Hey, Tristan?"

            "What?"

            "No, never mind."

            "No, tell me."

            "Never mind."

            "Oh come on."

            "Do you think maybe we could see each other when I'm in Washington?  I mean North Carolina isn't _too_ far away, is it?"

            "I'm sure we could arrange something," Tristan answers. "Bye, Rory."

            "Bye," she answers.


	2. Chapter Two

"You're really meeting with him this afternoon?" Paris asks as they unpack.

            "What, you think I'm making this up?"

            "No, I just think it's weird."

            "It is weird," Rory concedes.  Six weeks of living with Paris would be exhausting.  On the ride down, Paris had driven her crazy with plans for their senior year reign.  What should they do first?  Work on changing the cafeteria lunch menus?  Try to talk Headmaster Charleston into adding Japanese and Russian to the foreign language options?

            "So he really just wrote you a letter out of the blue like that?" Paris asks.

            "Paris," Rory says.

            "Sorry, sorry, it just seems really weird."

            "Okay, we've established that it's weird, can we move on please?"

            "You're cranky."

            "I'm fine."

            "Whatever you say.  These dorms are a dump," Paris comments.

            "Welcome to college."

            "They're small."

            "All dorms are small.  Even at Harvard."

            "Hopefully they're cleaner than this."

            "I don't think Washington D.C. is known for its cleanliness.  Besides, we're just residents for six weeks.  You can deal with anything for six weeks."

            "What time are you meeting Tristan?"

            "Threeish."

            "Where are you meeting?"

            "Washington Memorial."

            "How romantic," Paris says sarcastically.

            "It's not supposed to be romantic."

            "Is he gonna be spending the night here and stuff?"

            "Paris!  No!  I swear to you, Tristan and me are just friends."

            "Do we need to get one of those signs to hang on the doorknob 'if the dorm room is a rockin' don't come a knockin'?"

            "You are disgusting."

            "And you are blushing."

            "Because you're gross."

            "I wouldn't tell Tristan that you think having sex with him would be gross, it might hurt his feelings."

            "Look, maybe he used to like me but that's over now.  He's a totally different person.  He actually cares about stuff that isn't himself."

            "Wow," Paris says.  Rory can't read her tone.  Is she jealous?  Pre-occupied?  What? "So...Dean?"

            "We broke up," Rory says.

            "Because of Tristan?"

            "No, not because of Tristan."

            "You and Dean were really sweet together."

            "I know, I kind of screwed everything up."

            "By what?"

            "Kissing Jess."

            "That would do it."

            "Pretty much."

            "That seems really weird."

            "I know."

            "Not that Jess isn't great, because he is, I just don't see you doing something like that."

            "Yeah, well," Rory answers, looking at her watch.  2:45. "I'm gonna run."

            "Tell him hi for me."

            "I will."

            "And don't get mugged on the way or anything."

            "Good tip."

            "Just be safe, okay?  Washington is a rough city."

            "I'll be careful, thanks."

            They smile at each other and then Rory makes her way from the dorms to Washington Memorial.  It's a beautiful day, hot and sticky but beautiful.  The sky is deep blue and the few clouds are tall and puffy.  It's hard for Rory to believe the weathercasters are predicting rain for that evening.

            Tristan is nowhere to be found at the memorial, so Rory stretches out on a bench and pulls out a book.  While ordinarily she has no problem concentrating, today Rory finds her eyes drawn away from the pages by just about everything- a crying child, a crowd of college students playing softball down the road, a honking car.  Finally she sits on the bench for so long the noise of city life fades and she can concentrate on the book.

            "Some things never change," Tristan greets her.  

            "Like you being late?"

            "Funny, funny girl.  Sorry, my bus was behind schedule.  Watcha reading?"

            "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter."

            "Danielle Steele?"

            'Carson McCullers."

            "I was close."

            "It's a classic."

            "It sounds like a trashy romance novel."

            "Things don't change _that_ much."

            Tristan grins and takes a seat next to her on the bench.  Rory closes the book and stuffs it into her purse.  She's glad it's a hot day and her sweating looks heat induced.  If possible he had become more beautiful over their six months apart.  He's taller and more solid looking, with defined arms and a thick chest.  His little boy charm is gone, the spiky hair buzzed, the blue eyes harder.  Rory has a hard time not staring.

            "You look good," Tristan says.

            "Paris says hi," Rory answers, fingers knotting together in her lap.  His voice is the same grainy drawl that attracted her to him in the first place.

            "Well tell her I say hi back.  How's she doing?"

            "Good.  She's still Paris."

            "You guys getting along?"

            "Yeah, it took a little bit but we're pretty close now.  Actually she spent the night at my house a couple months ago."

            Tristan laughs.

            "That's hard to picture," he says.

            "You're telling me.  It just kind of happened.  She showed up uninvited for help with homework and then she ended up smoothing over something with Dean and Jess later that night.  After that we were friends."

            "I can't even imagine that, she hated you so much."

            "I know.  Life's funny like that, isn't it?"

            "It certainly is," Tristan says and Rory knows he's thinking about military school.

            "Is there any chance you'll come back to Chilton?" she asks.

            "Not really, I don't really have a reason to go back."

            "I guess not," Rory says.

            "I mean, I'm not exactly the person they remember, you know?  I just don't want to deal with all the politics involved in going back to Hartford."

            "So you're afraid," she surprises herself by saying.  She can tell Tristan is surprised too.   He laughs it off.

            "That's one way of saying it."

            "What's another way?"

            "That I'm hungry and we should go find something to eat."

            "Definitely."

            "I am craving some kind of really thick sandwich with all types of meat on it."

            "I was thinking a BLT."

            "Ooh that sounds good too.  We could do halfsies."

            "We could do what?" Rory asks with a laugh.

            "You know, halfsies.  Like you get a BLT and I get a big meat sandwich and you take half of mine and I take half of yours.  You've never done halfsies before?"

            "No I've done that, I just didn't realize it had a cute little name."

            "Well it does."

            "Good to know."

            "So tell me more about this Jess guy," Tristan says as they walk.  

            "What do you want to know?"

            "Like…how'd you meet him?"

            "He's the nephew of Luke, who owns the diner that my mom and I eat at just about every day."

            "And he's our age?"

            "Yep."

            "And you kissed him?"

            "Pretty much."

            "So were you guys good friends or what?"

            "No, actually we had never talked before and I walked into the diner one night and it was something about the way that he was pouring my coffee that I jumped up and kissed him."

            "Well, you always have had a thing for coffee."

            "We were friends.  We were good friends."

            "And you liked him."

            "Like I said, we were friends."

            "But you were attracted to him."

            "Yes," Rory says.  She sighs. "I was attracted to him.  He actually reminded me of the way I imagine my mother at seventeen.  He was angry and witty and artistic and I guess I kind of fell for him."

            "He was angry?"

            "His mom sent him to live with Luke because she was having problems with him.  Jess had reason to be angry."

            "I just don't see you with an angry guy, you know?  I mean you're so sweet and perky."

            "I'm perky?"

            "Yep, perky."

            "That makes me sound like a member of the cheerleading squad."

            "And that's a bad thing?" Tristan asks.  Rory thinks of Lane in her red and white cheerleading uniform, the way her face glowed after a good performance, the bond between her and the other cheerleaders.

            "I guess not," she says.

            The sandwich shop is a hole in the wall tucked between government buildings and Rory feels a little afraid of going inside.

            "You think they're going to yell at you if you order the wrong thing or something?" Tristan asks.

            "No, it just looks a little scary," Rory says.

            "Come on little girl," Tristan opens the door and leaves her no option but to enter the restaurant, which is crowded for 4:00.

            "That smells so good," Rory says.

            "Like fresh bread," Tristan agrees.  As they order, they both reach for their wallets.

            "Let me take care of this," Tristan says.

            "I can pay for my own."

            "You don't need to."

            "Why not?"

            "Because I'm the guy and I'm paying."

            "When did this become a date?"

            "It's not, I'm just paying," Tristan says.

            "No you're not."

            "I am too," Tristan says and he bumps her out of the way with his hip, causing her to stumble into a rack of chips that teeters but doesn't fall.

            "Look what you almost did," Rory taunts, face red.

            "What I almost did?  You're the one who started it.  I told you I was paying and that's final.  Consider it payback for all the mean things I did to you."

            "All the mean things?  Like what?"

            "Like calling you Mary."

            "That wasn't all that bad, toward the end I kind of liked it actually."

            "Okay, well what about when I told Paris you were going to PJ Harvey with me even though you'd already said no?" Tristan says as they move to the end of the counter and pick up their sandwiches.

            "Now that deserves some payback."

            "Oh wait, but later that day you announced to the whole school that you hated me."

            Rory blushes, embarrassed by how much she hurt Tristan.

            "I…" she can't think of anything good enough to say.

            "I'm sorry that was out of line," Tristan says, jamming his cup underneath the ice dispenser. "We've already talked through that and I promise this is the last time I'll ever bring it up."

            "Fair enough," Rory says.  She watches as he fills his coke to the top, waits for it to fizz down, tops it off, waits for it to fizz down, and tops it off again. "That is really annoying."

            "What is?"

            "You think you got that thing full enough?  You know, it's free refills."

            "Just habit, I guess," Tristan says, smiling. "I'm gonna grab us that table over there by the window."

            "Cool, I'll be right there." Tristan winks at her before he walks away.  

           They sit in the sandwich place for a long time, talking about movies and school and life experiences.  From their seat at the window, the two watch as gray clouds darken and spread across the sky.  Finally, Tristan stands and throws away their empty plates and watery coke remains.

            "I better walk you back, I don't want to miss my bus," Tristan says.

            "You don't need to walk me back," Rory says.  It is sprinkling outside.

            "I want to."

            They stand beneath the eaves of the sandwich place for a bit and stare at the increasing strength of the rain.

            "You want my jacket?" Tristan calls over a roll of thunder.

            "For what?" The air is thick and hot despite the summer shower.

            "To cover your hair."

            "Nah, it's fine."

            Tristan stares at her and Rory blushes, shifting beneath his watchful eye.

            "What?" she says finally.  

            "Just you," Tristan says, face breaking into a smile.  

            "So do we make a run for it?" Rory asks, trying to ignore the increased speed of her heartbeat.  

            "Let's go." 

Tristan takes her hand, grins at her, and breaks into a sprint, giving her no choice but to be dragged along.


	3. Chapter Three

"You should come inside and warm up," Rory says when they reached the dorms.  Despite the warm weather, the rain is icy.

            "Why?  Then I have to walk to my bus stop and get all cold again." Tristan fishes around his pants pocket, retrieving a tube of chapstick.

            "Yeah, I know, but it would be nice."

            "It would be, but I have to be getting back to school, and you have a riveting six week conference that starts tomorrow."

            "Don't remind me."

            "It'll go by quick, I'll call you every day."

            "Every day is a little excessive, don't you think?"

            "You don't want to talk to me?"

            "I do, it just seems like a lot of money."

            "Don't worry about it, I got it covered," Tristan says.  Rory thinks of Tristan's Porsche, his preppy clothes, his carefree manner that once screamed wealth.

            "Yeah I bet you do."

            "Don't say it like that."

            "Like what?"

            "Like I'm some snotty little rich boy."

            "Snotty and little no, but you are rich."

            "I happen to have money and I don't have anything to spend it on.  What better than to hand it over to AT&T?"

            "I can call you too, you know," Rory says, shuffling her feet.

            "We'll see," Tristan says.  He straightens the collar of Rory's shirt, which had flipped up on one side in the pandemonium.  

            "Thank-you," she says, voice so quiet it's a wonder Tristan can hear her.

            The hug happens so fast Rory has no time to analyze or feel awkward.  As soon as she realizes it's happening, it is over and Tristan is adjusting the hood of his rain slicker.

            "Next time I'll come up and see your room."

            "Call when you get home," Rory answers, ignoring the fact that Tristan just told her there would be another visit.

            "Will do," Tristan says, pausing only a second to look at her before jogging through the slushy city streets to catch his bus.

            Shivering, Rory takes the elevator up to her dorm.  Inside the tiny room, Paris is flat on her back, face covered in olive green gook, reading Native Son.

            "You're molding," Rory greets her.

            "Very original."

            "How's the book?"

            "Sick and twisted.  Mr. Medina went all out on choosing this one."

            "Can't wait to dive right in.  I'm freezing, I'm hitting the showers."

            "Lorelai, Lane, and Dean all three called for you."

            "Dean called?"

            "And Lorelai and Lane."

            "What did you tell him?"

            "You know he's not your boyfriend anymore so it's not a crime that you had a date with Tristan," Paris says, marking her place in the thick paperback and focusing her eyes on Rory.

            "It wasn't a date, what did you tell him?"

            "That you were out."

            "What did he say?"

            "Actually he sounded kind of worried."

            "What do you mean by worried?"

            "He said 'Is she alone?' but not in a 'I think she's with another guy' kind of way, more in a 'Washington is a big city and Rory shouldn't be wandering around alone after dark' kind of way."

            "Hmm," Rory says, locating her towel in the explosion of clothing that was their closet.

            "And Lane was just checking on you because you said you would call and you didn't."

            "Oops."

            "Don't worry, it's all taken care of.  I said I'd have you call when you got back into the room and the same goes for your mom."

            "Wow.  Thanks for being my answering service," Rory says.  She meant it as a joke but out loud it sounds harsh.  Paris doesn't seem to notice. "Um, did Dean want me to call him back?"

            "Yeah," Paris answers.  She notices Rory staring at the phone. "I think I'm going to go get this stuff off my face."

            "Good idea," Rory says. "I'll give Dean a call."

            Wrapped in a blanket, Rory dials Dean's number.

            "Hello?"         

            "Hey."

            "Oh good, you're back in your dorm," Dean says.  

            "Yeah I just got back," Rory says, hoping he doesn't ask her where she's been or who she was with.

            "I just wanted to make sure you got to Washington safely," he says, aggravating Rory's guilt.  He is so wonderful, why can't she make herself love him like she used to?

            "That's really nice, thanks."

            "I also wanted to tell you I was sorry."

            "Sorry?"

            "Yeah, for the way I reacted last week about the whole…you know."

            Rory blushes at the simple elusion of what she did with Jess.  How could she have betrayed Dean like that?  Dean who had recognized her as special because of the way she had read, Dean who accompanied her to her first dance, Dean who waited patiently as she browsed through bookstores.  

            "You had every right to act the way you did," Rory says.  She remembers the look on Dean's face when she confessed to kissing Jess, when she told him about skipping school to go to New York City, when she admitted to being attracted to Jess.  She thought Dean would yell, but all he did was grow quieter as she continued.  He cried, she cried, the break-up was what they both needed- he couldn't trust her and she had a hard time remembering why they were still together.  Still, she missed him.

            "Maybe we shouldn't have broken up, maybe we should have just taken time apart from each other," Dean suggests

            "We did what we thought we had to do."

            "It was so hasty," Dean says, and it was- for him.

            "That doesn't make it less right," Rory argues. "Look, Dean, what I did to you was awful and I think we both need some time apart to think about how we want to handle this."

            "Yeah, you're right," Dean says. "I just…I really miss you, Rory."

            "I miss you too."

            "Can I ask a really inappropriate question?"

            "Go for it," Rory says, wiping away tears.

            "Are you and Jess…I mean are you guys…you know, together?"

            "No, not at all," Rory says. "We haven't even talked since the wedding.  I saw him at Luke's right before I left and all it did was remind me of this terrible thing I did to you and I can't deal with that right now."

            "Okay," Dean says, his voice losing the tense tone that had been there since the beginning of the conversation.  The door cracks open and Rory waves Paris inside.

            "I need to go, I have some stuff to take care of before I go to bed," Rory says.

            "Oh okay, well it was good to talk to you."

            "You too."

            "And check in every once in a while, okay?"

            "I promise," Rory says.

            "Bye."

            "Bye."

            Paris sits beside her on the bed, trying to catch her eye, waiting for her to speak.  Rory continues to stare at the phone resting in her lap, and when she does raise her eyes to meet Paris's, she begins to cry.


	4. Chapter Four

            "I wish you would change your mind about coming with us," Paris says as she buttons her shirt.

            "I'll be fine, I could use a little time alone," Rory says.

            "You've been in such a funk since you talked to Dean."

            Paris rakes through the contents of her purse, deciding what is critical and what can stay.

            "Not true."

            "It _is true, outside of class you've done nothing but lie in your bed all week.  Please come out with us tonight, come experience Washington D.C."_

            "I'm very tired," Rory lies, pulling a blanket around her body.  Paris keeps their room at refrigerator temperatures.  She fakes a yawn.

            "You don't have to lie to me.  If you don't want to go, just say you don't want to go."

            "I don't want to go."

            "Please?  You _have to come.  I'll feel much more comfortable if you're there."_

            "I promise to go out with you tomorrow, okay?"

            "Rory, I know you're hurting because Dean's hurting, but we have five more weeks here.  You don't want to throw that away, do you?"

            "Tomorrow, Paris."

            "Fine."

            "Where are you guys going anyway?"

            "Promise not to laugh?"

            "No."

            "Bowling."

            "Really."

            "I think it'll be fun," Paris says, yanking a brush through her hair.

            "Who all is going?  Just you, Marie and Leslie?"

            Marie and Leslie were from an all girls school in Kansas City and most of their classes coordinated with Paris and Rory's. 

            "And Matt and Jamie."

            "Matt and Jamie as in Matt and Jamie from Atlanta?"

            "That's them."

            "Jamie as in dimples Jamie?"

            "Does he have dimples?  I never noticed."  Paris pretends to be preoccupied with a set of silver clips.

            "Oh please, you're so into him."

            "Call if you want to meet up with us later."

            "Have a good time."

            "You too."

            And then Rory is left alone in the dorm room.  For a while she works on summer reading but the CD playing weakens her concentration.  It's one of Jess's CDs.

            Jess.

            She's hardly thought of him this week in the midst of her wallowing over Dean and her evening phone calls with Tristan.  She's ashamed of herself for not calling Jess, not writing to him, nothing.  He'd moved back to Stars Hallow for her.  _For her.  He didn't say so, but she knew.  He moved back because he thought she was interested in him.  And why shouldn't he think she was interested in him?  She'd skipped school and took a bus to New York to spend the day with him.  She'd lunged at him at Sookie's wedding.  Rory feels her face growing hot as she remembers Jess's hands on her back, his scratchy face against hers._

            She rises from bed, invigorated by her feelings of self-hatred.  There was no way she could call him and say all she needed to, but she could e-mail him.  She pulls her laptop from beneath her bed and rests it on her crossed legs.  _I can do this she tells herself, taking a deep breath.  __I can tell him I regret it, that it was a mistake, that I hate myself for what happened._

            The phone rings before she can begin.

            "Hello?"

            "I wasn't sure if I would catch you or not," Tristan says.  It's seven-o-clock, his usual calling time.

            "Why?"

            "I thought you might be out."

            "Why?"

            "Because it's Friday night."

            "Oh, well, Paris wanted me to go out with her but I had some stuff to do."

            "Like what?"

            "Just stuff."

            "Like lay on your bed and mope?"

            "Who told you that?"

            "Paris."

            "Well I'm not laying on my bed," Rory says.

            "Sweetie, I know it's tough but you _have to get out of that room."_

            Rory thinks of her room at home- her travel posters, her books, the vanilla scented air freshener.  The air freshener...it was from the first time Dean and she broke up, back when she refused to admit that he mattered to her.  She wanted to be one of those girls who could walk off heartbreak, the way her mom had been when she was left pregnant without Christopher around to take care of her.

Rory was grateful for the way her mom had been the day after the first break-up, sacrificing her Saturday and letting Rory drag her all around Connecticut running trivial errands.  They'd bought so much crap that day- a kitchen soap dish, a welcome mat for the front porch, vanilla air freshener for Rory's room.  

She began to cry.

"Rory, don't cry," Tristan says, sounding a little terrified, like he's never had to handle a crying girl before.

"I want my mom," Rory says.  She craves Lorelai- her jokes, her smile, the way she treats every ailment with popcorn and a movie. "God I'm so homesick."

"Can you call her?"

"She's at my grandparents' house."

"Well...you'll just have to settle for me."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Rory cries.  She gulps for air, choking on her own sorrow.

"What for?"

"That I haven't been any fun this week.  That you have to spend your Friday night sitting on the phone listening to me cry."

"Rory, believe me.  I would rather sit here and listen to you cry than not talk to you at all.  I just wish I could be there."

"Me too," Rory mumbles.  There's a knock on the door.  

"Is that your door?" Tristan asks.

"Yeah, just a second."

She expects it to be one of her hall mates coming over to invite her out, or maybe Paris forgot her keys.  One thing is for sure, it never crossed her mind that Jess might be on the other side of the door.

"Hi," she stutters, clutching the phone.

"Hey," Jess says, hands behind his back, expression blank, rocking on his heels.

"Tristan, I need to go."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to go."

"Who is it?"

"I'll call you later."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Rory and Jess stare at each other.  Finally Jess motions to the phone and says:

"Sorry about interrupting."

"No, it's fine."

His intense eyes rest on her face, the eyes that drew her to him in the first place.

"Why did you come here?" Rory asks, steadying herself against the door.

"Because you didn't say goodbye," Jess answers. "Have you been crying?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I miss my mom," Rory says, moving her eyes to the ground.

"Oh.  Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure, come on in.  Sorry about the mess."

"God it's freezing in here."

            "I turned it off so it should be warming up.  Paris likes it cold."

            "Where's Paris?"

            "Bowling."

            "Why didn't you go?"

            "Didn't feel like it."

            "How come?"

            "I just didn't, okay?"

            "Okay, okay," Jess says.  He notices the music. "That's my Coldplay CD."

            "Yeah."

            "Did you plan on returning it?"

            "Some day."

            "I heard what happened with Dean."

            "Yeah I figured," Rory says.  She sits on her bed, stares at her hands, twists the thick silver band she wears on her thumb.

            "I'm sorry," Jess says, sitting beside her.

            "Don't be, it's my fault."

            "Well, I didn't help anything out by chasing you around like I did."

            "You didn't chase me."

            "Yeah I did."

            "No you didn't."

            "Yeah I did."

            "Well, I didn't notice," Rory concedes.

            "Everyone else did," Jess says. "Luke, your mom, Dean, everyone knew."

            "I guess so," Rory says.  She doesn't want to have this talk right now.  She wants to go back to the way it used to be with Jess- vague flirting, arguments about music, swapping books.  The tension of attraction smothers all that.  

            "Come on, Rory, talk to me.  I just drove hours to come see you, at least give me a conversation."

            "Don't act like I owe you anything, I didn't ask you to come."

            "So I'm just supposed to hang around Stars Hollow until you decide you're ready to deal with me?  I don't think so Rory, I'm not Dean."

            "I didn't mean it like that."

            "Why did you run away when you kissed me?" Jess asks.  It's obvious he came to find answers and doesn't plan on leaving until he gets them.  How can she explain it to him?  That what she loves about him is also what she hates- the way she loosens the rules when she's around him, the careless manner at which he approaches his life, the way he says things just to stir the pot.

            "I was scared," Rory admits.

            "You didn't need to be."

            "Yeah I did.  I had a boyfriend."

            "But you don't now."

            "I know."

            They look at each other, he leans toward her.

            "Stop, Jess.  Not now, not yet," Rory says.

            "Okay, okay," Jess says.  He stands up, pulls Rory with him.

            "What are you doing?"

            "Come on."

            "What?  Where?"

            "We're going out."

            "I don't want to."

            "Too bad," Jess says. "I'm taking you out and you have no say in the matter."

            Rory stares at him.  He's still holding her hand and she feels like her heart is going to pound right out of her chest.  Fifteen minutes ago she was thinking about what a mistake kissing him had been, now she's thinking about doing it again.

            "Fine," Rory sighs. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter Five

"_He spent the night_?!  How could you let him spend the night, Rory!?"

            "I don't know," she says, picking at her nail polish, trying not to cry.  It feels like all she's done since Sookie's wedding is cry and feel confused. "It just kind of happened."

            "Something like this doesn't 'just happen.'" Rory can hear the sounds of Tristan's pacing.  She didn't expect him to react like this.  She wasn't sure what she expected.

            "Sometimes it does."  She thinks of her first school dance with Dean, falling asleep on Miss Patty's beanbag chairs reading.

            "Not like this it doesn't.  Jess knew what he was doing whether you like it or not.  Think about it- did he have a toothbrush with him?"

            Rory's silence is her answer.

            "Sometimes you are so clueless it scares me."

            "I don't know what it is about Jess, but I always end up doing something I never thought I would.  Like skipping school or cheating on my boyfriend.  It's like I can't control who I am when I'm around him."

            "Then you have to start staying away from him."

            "You don't understand," Rory mumbles.

            "Neither do you.  What about when Jess wants you to have sex with him?  What are you going to do then?"

            "I'm not going to have sex with him."

            "I thought you said you can't control who you are around him."

            "Can we stop talking about this?" Rory asks, surrendering to the persistent tears.

            "Okay," Tristan says.  His voice softens at the sound of her crying. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to attack you, I just worry."

            "It's fine."

            "No it's not, I didn't mean to upset you."

            "You were just being honest.  And you're right, I shouldn't have let him stay here last night."

            "What did Paris say when she saw him?"

            Rory laughs.

            "She was surprised, but fine with it.  She likes Jess.  Actually, I think she has a little crush on him."

            "She likes those angry types?"

            "He's a big reader so they have a lot of literary stuff to talk about."

            "He's an angry guy who reads?"

            "Yep."

            "That's a little weird."

            "I know.  Then this morning after Jess left, Paris made some comment about how she was surprised it was him and not you spending the night."  The moments the words are out of her mouth, Rory regrets them.  Tristan laughs.

            "Good ol' Paris," he says. "She always knew you had a crush on me."

            "What?!  I did _not_ have a crush on you, Tristan."

            "Sure you did."

            "No I didn't."

            "Yeah ya did."

            "How do you figure that?"

            "Madelyn's party.  You kissed me back."

            "But I didn't start the kiss."

            "But you liked it."

            "I…shut up."

            "That was clever.  Consider my argument refuted."

            "You're impossible."

            "One of the many things you love about me."

            "Very true," Rory concedes. 

            "Well, I have something to tell you."

            "What?"

            Tristan takes a dramatic pause before saying:

            "I'm coming back to Chilton."

            "You're kidding."

            "Nope."

            "That is _so_ great!"

            "Yeah…I talked to my dad about it yesterday and he was cool with it."

            "Why did you wait until today to tell me?"

            "I was going to tell you last night, but…well, Jess-drama."

            "I'm so sorry."

            "Forget about it."

            "Tristan, this is so awesome.  My hands are shaking I'm so excited.  When do you leave North Carolina?"

            "Next weekend actually."

            "Wow, fast."

            "Thank God."

            "You just made my day," she exclaims, so energized she has to get up and walk around the room. "I can't wait to go back to school now."

            "That's because you're crazy."

            Rory smiles, knowing Tristan is smiling right then too.  She thinks about that afternoon at Washington Memorial when she had seen him smile for the first time in months- the crinkled corners of his eyes, the carefree sound of his laugh.

            "Hey…I thought you didn't want to come back to Chilton," Rory says.

            "Why did you think that?"

            "I don't know, maybe because you said so."

            "I did not," Tristan argues.

            "You did too."

            "When?"

            "When you were in Washington.  I asked if you were coming back and you said you didn't have a reason to," Rory says.  

            "Oh, well, now I do."

            "What changed your mind?" Rory asks.  She runs her fingers over the letter he sent her several weeks ago, stares at her name written in his handwriting.  The silence that follows her question makes her heart pound.  The alarm on Tristan's watch breaks the silence.

            "Oh…lunch time," Tristan says.  His voice is tight, uncomfortable.

            "Yeah, sure."

            "I'll call you later tonight."

            "Great, talk to you then."

            "Bye."

            "Bye."

            Rory collapses on her bed, hand still jittery, heartbeat throbbing in her ears.  She can't believe how badly she wanted him to say he was coming back to Chilton to be around her.


	6. Chapter Six

            Two months ago, this evening was unimaginable to Rory- her and Tristan double dating with Paris and Jamie.  

            "Zip me up," Paris demands. "Is that what you're wearing?"

            "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

            "You can't wear jeans."

            "Why not?  We're just going to the union to play pool."

            "Because I'm wearing a dress and I'm not wearing one alone."

            "Fine, you put on jeans," Rory says, returning to her book.

            "I can't.  All my jeans are dirty."

            "What activity are you partaking in that is getting your jeans dirty?"

            "I can only wear my jeans for two days."

            "Why?"

            "Because otherwise they get those weird little pleat things behind my knees and around my zipper."

            "You know that's very in style these days.  Girls spend extra money to get their jeans whiskered like that."

            "That's because they're stupid.  Change your clothes."

            "Wash your jeans."

            "Rory."

            "Fine, I'll change," she says, closing her book.  

            "But don't wear anything real cute.  Wear that floral dress in there."

            "My floral dress isn't cute?"

            "It hangs on you funny."

            "Thanks for the ego boost," Rory says.  She stands in front of the closet, staring at her options while Paris brushes her hair furiously. "What about my green dress, can I wear that?"

            "No, it makes your eyes look too pretty."

            "What's the big deal with what I wear?  I promise you that Jamie is not going to be looking at me."

            "It's too risky, every guy I've ever liked has fallen for you."

            "Like who?"

            "Both Tristan and Jess."

            "You can have Jess."

            "That's what you said about Tristan and now look at you."

            "For the love of god," Rory groans.  She yanks a blue skirt and sleeveless white sweater from their hangers. "This is what I'm wearing and you will deal with it."

            "That works."

            "Happy to hear it."

            "Are you very good at pool?" Paris asks.

            "I've never played in my life."

            "Okay good."

            "Why, are you?"

            "I played on a team in middle school."

            "I'm not surprised," Rory says, rolling her eyes.

            There's a knock at the door.

            "He can't be here, I'm not ready!" Paris hisses.

            "Calm down, I bet it's just Tristan." Rory opens the door and points. "See?  Just Tristan."

            "Thanks for the love," he says, hugging her. "You look great."

            "Too bad, I'm changing," she says, waving the skirt and sweater in the air. "I'll be right back."

            When she returns to the room, she is greeted by the sight of Tristan stretched across her bed and Paris frantically digging through the clump Rory's jewelry.

            "Hey good lookin'," Tristan greets her.

            "Where's your turquoise bracelet?" Paris demands.

            "On my desk."

            "That's what you're wearing?"

            "I told you it was."

            "Can't you wear a sweater or something over that?  Something that hides your boobs."

            "You have boobs too," Rory says, already digging for her white wrap around sweater.

            "Yeah, well I don't want Jamie getting distracted by yours."

            "I could cover them up with my hands," Tristan offers, winking at Rory.  Her face burns.

            "You're so helpful, Tristan," Paris snaps.

            "Okay, can we switch the topic of conversation off my boobs please?  Tristan, tie this for me."

            "Yes ma'am," he says, sitting up and pulling the strings of her sweater into a bow.

            "I'm going to brush my teeth," Paris announces, leaving the room.

            "That's the third time in the last half hour," Rory says to Tristan, giggling as she flops down on the bed next to him.

            "What?  I didn't hear what you said because I was distracted by your boobs," Tristan says.  Rory laughs and looks at her hands. "Ha ha, I can still make you blush."

            "I'll start analyzing your body parts later and we'll see how much you like that," Rory threatens.

            "Somehow I think I would be okay with it.  So, Paris has really flipped for this Jamie guy, huh?"

            "They're adorable together.  He's crazy about her and vice versa."

            "Is he cuter than me?"

            "Is it possible?"

            "Good girl."

            "Okay, Jamie just called and he's down in the union," Paris announces as she enters the room. "How do I look?"

            "Amazing," Rory says.

            "Ditto," Tristan agrees.

            Rory loves the game of pool immediately- the precision, the strategy, the lack of physical exertion.  She's terrible at it, and even though Tristan is pretty good, Paris and Jamie have no problem clearing the table in a matter of minutes.

            "I'm so sorry," Rory says to Tristan as he arranges the balls in the rack.  Paris and Jamie are trading out pool cues, chalking up, talking strategy.

            "For sucking?" Tristan asks. "I don't care."

            "It's embarrassing."

            "Believe it or not, I love you for more than your billiards abilities."

            "It's a good thing."

            "Yes it is.  You just need someone to show you how to hold the cue."

            "Will you show me?"

            "Oh…I'm not really that good so I probably shouldn't be the one to teach you," Tristan says, sounding flustered.

            "You're better than I am," Rory says. "Come on, please?"

            Tristan looks at her.  Rory wishes she could read his expression, but it's impossible, as if even Tristan doesn't know what he's thinking.

            "Um, okay.  Well, lets start with positioning your hands," he says.  He props his cue against the table and stands behind Rory.  She can feel his awkwardness as he takes on her point of view, leaning his body against hers, covering her arms with his.  His breathing tickles her neck and she doesn't know what surprises her more, how nervous Tristan seems or how comfortable she feels with him against her.  

            "Curl your fingers like this around the cue," Tristan instructs, folding her hand around the tip of the cue like she's a manikin.  Rory allows him to redirect her arms and fingers until he is satisfied that she is in a prime position.

            "It's uncomfortable," Rory says, her knuckles cramping.

            "You'll get used to it.  Now don't think about hitting the ball hard, just focus on aiming.  The strength will come with time.  Hit the yellow ball into that corner pocket.  Hit it right here," Tristan says, pulling his body off of hers to point at the spot of the ball that she should aim for.

            Rory draws back her cue, aims, and the yellow ball slowly rolls into the pocket.

            "I did it!" she cries.  Tristan raises his hand to her in a hi-five, entwines their fingers when she touches her palm to his.

            "Good job."  She catches her breath as he pulls her toward him.

            "Thanks," Rory says, excitement subdued by Tristan's eyes running up and down her face.

            _He's going to kiss me_, she thinks, recognizing the look in his eyes.

            The intense moment is broken when Tristan's pool cue falls from it's position against the pool table and lands with a loud _thwack_ against the union floor.  

            "Geez," Tristan says, hand resting over his heart.  Rory giggles, ignoring the disappointment that nags in her chest.  Tristan glances at Rory and grins before calling over to Jamie and Paris: "Hey are we playing or what?"

            Later that night in the dark of the dorm room, Paris says to Rory:

            "You know you're in love with him, right?"

            "I am not," Rory says, her protestations sounding weak even to her.

            "And he's just as in love with you."

            "He is not."

            "Whatever you say, Rory."

            "Goodnight, Paris."

            "Goodnight."


	7. Chapter Seven

            "Do you realize that almost two years ago we were in this exact same spot doing this exact same thing?" Lorelai says as she paints Rory's toenails out on the patio.

            "Only it was red not pink and my dinner was Reddi-whip."

            "I can't believe you made me live without you for six weeks."

            "You know when I go away to college you'll be living without me all the time."

            "That's an awful thing to say," Lorelai says.  Rory agrees.  It's an awful thing to _think_, leaving her mom and the comforts of Stars Hallow. 

            "Well, I'm very glad to be home."

            "I can't believe you're leaving me on the very night you got home," Lorelai whines, lower lip puckering into a pout.

            "I can't control when Madelyn throws her back-to-school parties."

            "But you don't have to go."

            "I promise I won't be out real late and when I get home we can do anything you like."

            "Can we make chocolate chip pancakes and watch Almost Famous?"

            "I told you, anything you want."

            "Okay, then you can go tonight.  Give me your other foot."

            Rory hoists her other foot into her mother's lap and closes her eyes, grateful for the homey feeling of Connecticut.  

            "So this thing with you and Jess…is that over?"

            "I don't know," Rory says, thinking of waking up to Jess in Washington, the adorable way he kept the blankets curled around his chin. "It's on pause anyway."

            "What about the situation with you and Dean?"

            "It's friendly."

            "Friendly?" Lorelai questions.

            "Well friendish.  We talked a couple times when I was in Washington.  We're just sorting through everything."

            "And Tristan?"

            "What about Luke and you?" Rory asks.

            "Mmm…very interesting that you don't feel comfortable talking about Tristan."

            "Don't read that much into it."

            "So are you and Tristan together?"

            "No."

            "But you're going to this party with him tonight, right?"

            "He'll be there."

            "Very interesting."

            "Stop saying that, it isn't interesting."

            "Yes it is.  Keep your toes spread, okay?  I'd hate for all my work to go to waste."

            "It's not a date."

            "Really," Lorelai says.

            "It's not that big of a deal.  I'm just going because Paris is," Rory says, but she doesn't believe it any more than Lorelai does.

            They're quiet for a while.  Rory thinks about Tristan, how far they've come over the summer.  She remembers running through the rain that first day in Washington D.C., the sound of his laughter when he kicked puddle water at her.

            "What are you all smiley about?" Lorelai asks.  Rory shrugs, turns her thoughts to last spring- the car crash, New York, Sookie's wedding.

            "I don't think it would have worked with Jess," she admits. "As a boyfriend, I mean.  I care about him a lot and he's a great friend to have around, but…"

            "But, Tristan?" Lorelai says, laughing when she sees Rory's surprised expression. "Puh-lease, he's all you talk about and I do spend an awful lot of time around you.  I can tell when you're all ga-ga, Rory."

            "Is it stupid to say I think I was waiting for him?" Rory asks.  It's a question she's been pondering ever since the night they played pool and Paris informed her that Tristan and she were in love with each other.

            Lorelai shrugs.

            "Not stupid," she says. "The heart is a curious organ."

            "I mean I always thought he was cute in an annoying kind of way, but it feels like after he left, I was always waiting for him to come back," Rory frowns, wiggles her freshly painted toes. "What do you think Mom?"

            "I think you're going to have a great time tonight."

            But Rory isn't so sure as she parks on Madelyn's block and steps out of the Jeep.  The street is lined with all kinds of cars and Rory feels a familiar fatigue that comes over her when she thinks about socializing with kids her own age.  Rory wishes Lane could have come, Lane has a way of knowing what to say to put Rory at ease.  But instead Rory is forced to enter the buzzing house alone.

            Never good at mingling, Rory finds herself wandering from room to room, unsure of what she's looking for.  She remembers a night like this a long time ago when Dean and she had first broken up and Rory had wandered through Madelyn's house, not wanting to pull Lane away from Henry.  Henry is here tonight, Rory spotted him dancing with some brunette girl that she didn't recognize.  He saw Rory too but didn't acknowledge her, maybe thinking that Rory was mad at him about Lane.  She makes a mental note to approach Henry at school and let him know that he doesn't need to feel weird around her.

            "Hi."

            Rory is startled by Tristan's voice calling to her from a room she thought was empty.  Rory backs up to a sight that tugs at her sentimental heart.

            Tristan sitting on a piano bench, fingers of one hand running along the ivory keys in a senseless pattern.

            "Hi," Rory coughs out, her surprise causing Tristan to chuckle.

            "What a walk down memory lane, huh?" he says.

            "Yeah…only last time I walked in I said 'sorry.'"

            "And I said something real intelligent like 'no problem.'"

            "And I said I was sorry about you and Summer breaking up."

            "Oh that's right!" Tristan exclaims. "Summer and I had just broken up."

            "You're breaking character," Rory admonishes, smiling.

            "Oops.  Um…you said you were sorry about Summer and I, and I said 'it doesn't matter because I'm actually crazy in love with you.'"

            Rory can't figure out what to do with her eyes, whether she should look at him or the piano or her hands.  She keeps them steady on the floor and tries to ignore the dizzy-love feeling clouding her brain.

            "No, you said you didn't want to talk about Summer," Rory corrects, voice quiet and timid.

            "And then you leaned against the piano and asked how I did on the biology test," Tristan says and Rory leans on the piano.

            "And you were confused."

            "I _was_ confused.  I couldn't understand why you were being so nice to me when I'd been such a jackass to you.  That's when I figured out how special you were."

            "Only you didn't say special.  You said odd," Rory reminds him.  She sits beside him on the piano bench.

            "Remember that first day we spent together in Washington?  When we were getting ready to make a run for it in the rain and I offered you my jacket and you said you didn't want it?"

            "Yeah."

            "And then I started smiling and you asked why.  You remember?"

"I remember."

"I was smiling because you were the first girl I'd ever met who wasn't afraid to get her hair wet in front of me."

            Rory laughs, sure that her face is a flaming red.

            "Every other girl has always been so timid about their imperfections.  They always wanted to look flawless to me, like if I discovered their hair frizzed in the rain I wouldn't want to date them.  And for the record, your hair looked like crap by the time we got back to the dorm room…but it was also the moment I realized that I'd been waiting for you the whole time I was away."

            "I think I was waiting for you too," Rory says.  She gathers courage and raises her eyes to his.  _He's going to kiss me_, she thinks. "You look nervous," Rory says, her own voice shaky.

            "Yeah, well, last time I did this you ran out of the room crying so I think I have a right to be a little apprehensive," Tristan says.

            He smiles, smoothes her dark hair, touches his fingertips to her cheek.  

            "Stop biting your lip," he commands.  Rory laughs nervously, stomach tight with anticipation.  

            "Nervous habit," she whispers.

            "You have nothing to be nervous about."

            "Maybe I do."

            "Are you kidding?  You have me wrapped around your finger, Lorelai Gilmore."

            Rory blushes, ducks her head.  Tristan touches her chin and raises her eyes to meet his.  

            "Thanks for waiting for me," he whispers.  His voice is so tender it makes Rory want to cry.

            "Thanks for choosing me," she responds.  Then he guides her mouth to his and puts an end to all the waiting.

**The (tentative) End.**


End file.
